Why so much hype?

Although it has its amusing moments, in eneral the plot does not convince.

Great example of an old-fashioned, pure-at-heart escapist event movie that doesn't pretend to be anything that it's not and has boat loads of fun being its own ludicrous self.

what a terribly boring film. I'm sorry but this is absolutely not deserving of best picture and will be forgotten quickly. Entertaining and engaging cinema? No. Nothing performances with flat faces and mistaking silence for subtlety.

This was a dark story. Never one minute of happiness. Everyone in the movie was a horrible person except Mary. I wondered how bad was Ned that she would live in scalor and watch ppl be murdered instead of returning to marry her friend Ned. I never saw or understood why she felt anything for Jem although Matt is a handsome actor. Now the real mystery was why nasty Patience ever agreed to take her into this scum bag life or why she was so devoted to her horrible husband. I suppose at the end where they were kissing and talking about an egg he bought her i was supposed to be touched after watching him drown an entire ship full of men. No not feeling it. Did not care one bit for either. Both should hang. They were all scum of the earth.

If you are a US viewer you'll certainly need the subtitles turned on although I recommend you find something else to watch. I turned off after around 30 minutes because of the mumbling dialogue which has attracted thousands of complaints to the BBC.Sean Harris is utterly terrible in this role as he was in the channel four travesty Southcliffe.How the director/producers failed to notice the nonsensical dialogue is beyond me.Do yourselves a favour and buy the (very excellent) book and give this utterly terrible adaptation a wide berth.

The fashion for dark realism seems to have permeated even Historical dramas. I suppose they think it underpins the characters with an Earthy veritas and makes them, and their circumstances, seem more real. It is true that the doings on the Cornish coast were pretty dreadful but to depict it in such uniformly depressing tones leaves no room for the light of moral comparison to shine in. It's as if the Human Condition is depicted as black paint on a black canvas. We're all doomed and there's no point in trying.This is the stuff of Literature, we are tempted to think, but, unfortunately, this dark cynicism has not so much given it a Literary sheen but rather the ambiance of a bucket of mud from a marshy strand, full of ugly little creatures all trying to escape from their dire surroundings. The trouble with being too realistic is that Reality is often dull, dour and boring and so to take this attitude when dramatising an Historical novel is really, to drain the romance, and thus the entertainment, from the history. Dickens and Shakespeare, and more recently Ripper Street, have a sort of parallel historical verity by the action being enhanced by beautiful dialogue and richly drawn characters. This dramatisation of Jamaica Inn, however, seems to have reduced Literary endeavours to incoherent grunts, curses and prosaic railings against the brutality of life. I had to stop myself from wistfully hoping that the grim, marshy landscape would be transformed into the polished cobbles of Westward Ho and that the Inn would have a Shepperton makeover to turn it into a shiny Admiral Benbow complete with picturesque pirates and colourful redcoats but, unfortunately, we were stuck, until the final squalid thrashings, with undifferentiated mud and gloom. Our heroine was failed by the absence of the best traditions of female literary creations, and became, not so much a plucky young lass, but just another creature floundering in the mire of the marshes.So when poor Mary Yellan rode off into the sunset with her mud-coloured horse-thief, we could only shrug with the dire certainty that she was merely riding slap-bang (with a guttural grunt)into the mud-encrusted side of the bucket.

What an abysmal dreary offering of what is a brilliant Du Maurier story especially when compared to the excellent 1983 HTV production with Jane Seymour. It was all I could do to stop falling asleep. The complete lack of charisma of any of the actors was painful, excepting the excellent Andrew Scarborough who surely would have made a more convincing and menacing Joss Merlin. For me, there was a complete lack of suspense, it had the the magic of a monotonous monologue supported by an awful music score. Certainly, the cliff hanger didn't leave me hanging on for any more of this and to think that my license fee was in part paying for this really grieves me. Seek out the 1983 version, I recommend.